The Hunger Games - One Shots
by RainbowUnicornShiz
Summary: Here are a compilation of one shots/HC's that I have written over the years for the Facebook page I used to admin on. Please review and give your opinions on what I've written. If you have any ideas as to how I can continue them to make full fanfictions, then please tell me! I am open to suggestions
1. Gale & Johanna

The corridors of District 13 are quite lonely, even during the day, but particularly at night. The steel walls, the cold light, the echoes from a distant soldier; it's eerie enough to send shivers up your spine. Nothing scares me, nothing at all. Except... except...

"Mason?"

I stop dead in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat. I swallow hard and turn around slowly, my heartbeat reverberating off the metallic surroundings.

"Hawthorne? What the hell?!" I say, pushing him in anger. He stumbles back slightly, looking bemused but laughs.

"Did I scare you, Mason?"

"No," I scowl, chewing at the inside of my mouth

"How come you're up?"

"Did some late night training. I want to go on that mission to the Capitol."

"You know they won't let you go if you're still hooked to the good stuff," he says, leaning on the wall.

"I'm trying, okay?" I hiss, scratching my arm to hide the needle scars.

They shouldn't have given it to me in the first place. It's addicting stuff and I have an addictive personality. I tried, tested and experimented with many things in my youth, after winning. Drugs, sex, adrenaline seeking. Nothing filled the heart-shaped hole that was left after my family were taken away from me.

"Do you really want to go?" he asks me.

"Of course," I scoff. "If the Capitol is going down, I want to be a part of it."

His reply is only a nod. The mechanical sounds of the underground District breaks the awkward silence, making it even more awkward.

"I should..." he mumbles.

"Yeah, me too..." I say, rolling my eyes as I start to walk past him. His fingers grip onto mine quickly, holding me in frozen moment.

"Mason?"

I look down at his hand holding mine and back up into his grey eyes.

"Johanna..." He says. "I could do with some company..."

"What makes you think that I'd want to come with you?" I say coldly. He shrugs slightly.

"I've got a big compartment. It gets... lonely."

He's thinking of her. It's all over his. He can't have her so he's trying to get at the closest thing to her: her roommate.

"I may have been like that before, Hawthorne, but now... Oh no."

"Johanna, please."

Now I'm not so sure. The voice seems genuine, as do the eyes.

"If you really meant no," he says. "How come you're still holding my hand?"

I look down. How could I have not noticed how our hands are still interlinked, the way my thumb softly massages his soft dark skin.

Maybe he could fit the heart-shaped gap in my soul.


	2. Peeta and the Little Everdeen

It wasn't often Peeta got to work out the front and talking to the customers in the District 12 bakery. He loved it though. Chatting with the locals whilst decorating cupcakes: who could ask for such an easy day's work?

One empty Saturday afternoon, he noticed a little blonde girl with her face pressed against the window. She was around 10 or 11, extremely cute with two braids. He took his mind away from his work and watched her from a distance. She was staring at the brightly coloured and lavishly designed cakes on display. He never disturbed her; he just watched her watch the cakes. Eventually, the girls' sister would come along and take her home. But the blonde stopped and pointed to a small pink cupcake. Her sister shook her head and hurried her along.

And Peeta watched this happen a few times. Each time, the little girl stared at the same bright pink cupcake. During his lunch break he snuck out and patted the little girl on the back. She turned and smiled as he presented her with a small box.

"This is our secret okay?" he said, and the little girl nodded and ran back home with the biggest and most beautiful smile on her face, carry the box containing the pink cupcake she had longed for as though her life depended on it.


	3. What Happened to Cinna?

I'd heard things about what this stuff does to you, watching as they inject it into my vivacious veins, screaming as it sears into every cell. They said the hallucinations are the best thing you see before you die, that everything sparkles and you feel bubbly and soft. I couldn't be more wrong.

I tried it once after a fashion show. Scientists in 3 took the venom, modified it so it wasn't lethal and turned it into a pill to be sold as the new way of getting high. When I tried it, it felt amazing, but something I knew I could get hooked to, so I stopped.

I don't know why I'm thinking about this now. I know I'm going to die. They've been asking me all sorts of questions, questions about her, about the Rebellion that I've been helping. Of course I don't tell them. I just groan in pain and take the liquid torture they put in me.

She'll do it. I know she will. She's a fighter; you can see it in her eyes. She's never wanted anything more than this: freedom. Not just from the power that governs her life, but from her own self.

I thought it would be a bit nicer than this, death. You don't hear much about it here. People just vanish and nothing else. I guess I'm still naïve, despite being in touch with the Districts all my life. Death doesn't feel nice. It feels like the fire which I set them ablaze with.


	4. The Sacrifice

Death. I knew it was inevitable.

I never was going to survive this game. No one ever does. There was a chance. One small chance. But my life is nothing, nothing compared to the what is about to come.

Winning was my second chance at life. But it wasn't. I look back on it now, as I look at the colours, and it was for nothing. A life of misery and pain and nothing. Just... Nothing.

Something helped with the pain for a bit. That one drug which they name me by. Colours like this. Pretty colours. Dancing on my face. A warm feeling inside. It feels like... Like love.

He speaks to me. My breathing is raspy. He showed kindness. He is showing kindness. He is kind. He is the reason I have done this. He...

Death. I knew it was inevitable.


	5. The Pair from District 1

The blonde from District 1 lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was the dreaded night before the games. Everything had gone well: she looked amazing during the parade, she had a high training score and the audience loved her during the interview. But there was one thing in her way: Katniss Everdeen.

At the thought of the name, Glimmer shot out of bed and paced around her room. The girl from 12 was ruining everything for her. Higher score, better parade costume, a boy to swoon over her and make even the most unattractive desirable. It made the blonde feel sick.

She crept out of her room and looked at the door of her District partner. She raised her hand to knock but as if my magic, it opened, and there he stood. Marvel.

"Hey, Glim. What's up?" he said, leaning on the door frame.

"I wanna make sure that bitch goes down. Fancy some late night training?" she said, smiling flirtatiously, the way she knew the boys liked. He raised his eyebrow.

"You what?" he smirked. "It's like… 1am? We have to be up in a few hours."

She shrugged and stepped closer to him.

"Come on," she said, biting her lip.

He sighed slightly.

"Alright… Just for you."

She grinned and took him to the elevator. Marvel pressed the button and the elevator arrived and whizzed them down in an instant. The training centre was empty; no weapons or equipment.

"Well, this was pointless!" he groaned sarcastically.

"No it's not," she retorted. She stepped closer to him, so his back pressed against the wall. "We could…." She twirled her finger over his shirt. Marvel swallowed hard. She stroked her fingers down his arm and in one swift and painful move the man's body was flipped onto the floor, her foot on his chest. "We could wrestle?"

Marvel chuckled as he moaned with pain.

"I can see where you got that 9 from."

The blonde giggled and tossed a lock of her hair back.

"Like I said: that bitch is going down."


	6. Peeta's Hijacking

I lay curled up in the bed, clutching my head. I wish they would go away, their voices. Her scream was the worse, the Avox. It was like a beast being brutally attacked. She had no voice, that's why it was so guttural.

I know why this has happened. It's all her fault. She tortured that red-head, she tortured Annie, she tortured Johanna. And she's tortured me all my life. She never loved me. She just used me, like her mother used her father. It must run in the blood. Maybe she's not even real, just another mutt out to kill me. She probably would've killed me if I wasn't rescued.

She could still kill me.  
Not if I kill her first.


	7. Buttercup - An Orphan

Primmy?

Primmy, where are you?

I sniff at her bed. It smells of her, of her sweat from the nightmares. She used to cuddle her sister when that happened, but since we're in this new place, she can't any more. She cuddles me.

Primmy?  
Primmy, where are you?

I miss our home. I miss it a lot. It was safe there. Even when it bombed, I had somewhere to hide. Here, there was nothing, nothing but destruction and dust. I almost died. I know Primmy wouldn't have liked that if I died. She would've missed me. I know I'd feel the same if she was gone.

Primmy?

Primmy, where are you?

She went the other day, on this mission. She's very smart. She told me all about it when she cuddled me. She wants to save everyone from the war. She's good with her hands and she's quick to respond. And she wants to help her sister fight. I don't like her sister. She drowned me once. Our friendship was ruined from that moment.

Primmy?!

The door opens. I hop down and head to person who comes in. It's the sister. Her eyes are red. She looks upset. But she should be happy. The fighting should be over now she's back.

Primmy?

Primmy, where is she?

"She's dead, you stupid cat! She's dead."


	8. The Truth Behind Effie's Wig

No one had seen me without my wig on before. No one. I never liked to take it off. Not because I was bald or anything, but it was a reminder that I wasn't my father's child. My mother had an affair with a Victor when she was nineteen. The man who raised me never looked at me the way he did my brother, the child he knew was his. He was a brunette, naturally of course. He dyed his hair green. My mother was also a natural brunette. And it was the red headedness of my mother's young love that has given me this strawberry hair.

"Effie?" I hear his gruff voice from behind me.

I turn and gasp, struggling to find the candy floss coloured wig to cover up. I feel naked like this.

"You're... You're ginger?" says Haymitch. He didn't say it like it was a bad thing, nor like it was a good thing. He says it like it was a thing.

I can't help but blush like an embarrassed child, touching my hair self consciously. I am exposed now. Any thought of manners or decorum mean nothing.

"Yes," I mumble, glancing to him.

The Victor smirks slightly, leaning on the door frame. He's scrubbed up well. He's had a shave and combed his hair.

"It suits you," he nods.

Huh? Did he just... complement me?

"Thanks," I mumble, looking around the room awkwardly.

"Seriously though," he says. "Ditch the wig, Eff."

"You're the first one who's seen me without it," I mumble.

"Why don't you like it?"

"Because it reminds me how me father hated me."

He furrows his brow slightly. "Is your father still alive?" I shake my head. "Then by covering up, you're just letting him win."

I bite my bottom lip slightly. His words sort of made sense somewhere in my brain. And that part of my brain reacted by filling me with sadness. I know he sensed I was about to cry, because he appeared beside me and hugged me tight.

"Just because he didn't love you, doesn't mean I don't, sweetheart," he whispers in my ear.


	9. Prim's First Moments

There was a bright light and a ringing sound. The last thing I saw was my sister. She looked scared. I don't know why. I'm safe now. Away from the war, away from the terror. I am in this beautiful place. It's calm and peaceful. I can grow up without the fear of going hungry, of being Reaped.

I look around. Trees and a lake and butterflies. There are pretty little flowers dotted all around which smell divine. And birds, beautiful birds. I hear a four note tune. It is so familiar.

There is a girl, stood looking at the trees and singing this tune.

"What are you doing?" I ask. She turns to me and smiles.

"I'm singing to the mockingjays," she replies.  
Mockingjay. My sister is a Mockingjay.

"I'm Prim, by the way."  
"I know. I knew your sister."

"How?"

"My name is Rue."


End file.
